Demons and Angels
by SpencerReidsTrueLove
Summary: When Reid's cravings come back to haunt him, will Morgan be able to save the genius? Or will Reid let addiction overcome his life? Slash. RXM.
1. Cravings

Disclaimer - I do not own Criminal Minds. Wish I did, but I don't. I make no profit from this other than the kind words I hope to receive in praise. hint hint

I paced back and forth in my bedroom, stopping every few minutes and staring hard at myself in the mirror. I delved deep into my pocket, withdrawing a small golden coin. Three years. There had been moments of weakness, but overall, I had kicked my habit. That was why I was having such a hard time understanding what was going on in my head. I tried to rattle through numbers, facts, statistics, books, that I had stored in my memory, but all I could concentrate on was my extreme urge to find some pain killers. Dilaudid was my particular brand of poison back then, but at the moment I would take anything. I clawed at my own arms, itching and burning for something in my system.

Usually when I would go into a fit of cravings it was because I'd had a particularly bad case, usually if I had identified with an unsub, or had to kill someone. This night, however, nothing of importance had happened. I was just sitting, watching television, and started freaking out. It had been so long since I'd even had so much as a craving, I couldn't understand it. I hated not understanding things. That fact was almost worse than wanting the drugs. I sat down on the edge of my bed, my legs bouncing up and down rapidly.

I couldn't clear my head. All I could think about was getting something, anything, in my system. I picked up my cell phone, scrolling through the contacts one by one. Of course, I had far left that life in my past, and had no numbers of anyone who I could get anything from. I began chewing my nails, sweat was budding on my forehead.

"WHY?" I screamed into the empty space surrounding me. Nothing answered. Obviously. I'm not sure what I had expected, maybe I thought some higher power would shed some light on my world. So much for that. The room was void of life other than myself. I threw myself back on my bed, smacking myself in the forehead. I rubbed my eyes furiously, trying to regain control of my senses.

The room was blurring. My mind was pulsing faster than ever before. Memories flooded my skull. I just wanted everything to stop. I wanted my mind to be clear, at least as clear as possible for me. I always had something running through my overactive brain, usually several things. This time, however, it was only one. High. That was all I could think about. I wanted to be high. I wanted to be on another plane. Floating away from the ties of hate, evil, greed, death, abuse, psychosis. I just wanted to escape.

I tried hard to bring myself back down to Earth. I told myself I was a Federal agent, I had worked so hard to be where I was, and drugs were not worth throwing everything away. But there was this other part of me that screamed, YOU NEED IT! YOU WANT IT! And somehow, at that moment, I knew that it was right. My resolve broke, and I knew what I had to do if I ever wanted any form of peace. I grabbed my messenger bag, slung it over my shoulder, and headed out.

I was nervous, jittery, as I walked down the dark streets of Quantico. As I walked, I told myself how stupid I was being. I repeated over and over that I was being a fool, that I needed to turn around, go home, and get over myself. My feet didn't listen, though. They continued their path to a dark alley. Cliché, huh? You would think in my line of work, and with my IQ, that I would be smarter than to go alone into a dark alley, after illegal substances.

The man, whose name I did not know, was leaning against the brick wall, one leg propped up. He knew my face when I approached him, it wasn't my first time dealing with him in particular.

"Hey." he gestured with a nod.

"Hey, uh, do you have..." I stammered over my words.

"Nah, I aint got what you used to get. I got some other stuff, though." I scratched my arm nervously.

"Uh, what's that?" He pulled a pouch from his pocket. It contained a fine, white powder. Cocaine. Probably about two-thousand dollars worth. It was completely different from what I was used to. At this point, however, I would take anything. I pulled forty dollars from my pocket.

"Aight, then." He said, pulling out another bag from his pocket and separating out a small amount. We made our exchange, and I made a hasty get-away.

Once I was back in the comfort of my own home, I poured some of the powder onto a book lying on my living room table. I had seen and read enough to know what to do. I grabbed a straw from my kitchen, separated a small line, and snorted it. It burned my nasal cavities, making my eyes water. Despite the fact that I had read and understood the effects of the drug, I wasn't sure what to expect. Hating myself for what I was doing, I laid back against the couch, covering my face with my hands. I breathed deep, in and out, waiting for something to happen.

After a few minutes of waiting, everything sped up. My knees started bouncing of their own accord, and the thoughts that normal penetrated my life raced through my brain. Numbers, images, words, all blazing through my mind in a way I had never experienced. I jumped to my feet and frantically searched through my desk, grabbing a spiral notebook and some pens. I curled into the corner of my couch, scribbling the thousands of thoughts that were flashing behind my eyes.

A/N – Hope you like it so far. It's an idea that I've been tossing around for a minute. Actually one of four that I narrowed down thanks to the help of a good friend.


	2. Irrational Fear

Chapter 2 -

Morgan's POV

I stood up, pulling my boxers back on. Two chocolate arms wrapped around my neck and a kiss was planted on my cheek.

"Thanks baby, call me anytime." A woman cooed into my ear. I couldn't tell you what her name was. For me, though, that was normal.

"Glad you enjoyed it." Damn I sounded cocky. She gathered her clothes, dressed, and left. I laid back on my bed, feeling both satisfied and yet empty at the same time. I tried to fall asleep, but there was something nagging at me. I felt like I was needed somewhere, like somebody was crying out to me. I didn't know who, though, or why. I tried to shake the feeling and sleep, but it wouldn't go away. I picked up my cell phone and looked through my contacts, seeing if one of the names would tug at me, telling me who was in trouble. I knew that I sounded insane, and that it was probably nothing, but I wanted to sleep, and I knew that wouldn't happen until the feeling went away.

Aaron Hotchner. No, that wasn't it.

David Rossi. Not him either.

Desire Morgan. My little sister, no, she was ok.

Emily Prentiss. I was sure Emily was fine.

Penelope Garcia. Ah, if Baby Girl was in trouble she would call me.

Sarah Morgan. My other sister. No, not her.

Spencer Reid. There it was, I felt a pull in my chest. I immediately dialed the number. It only rang once before there was an answer.

"Spencer Reid." His words flew out faster than normal.

"Hey, Reid, it's Morgan, I just, I don't know, wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine! Never better! Why?" He sounded elated and pumped up. Not at all like normal Reid.

"I just had a weird feeling, and I know you have a habit of getting into bad situations."

"I'm fine! I'm fine! Don't worry." He sounded so out of character.

"Reid, why are you so excited? Did you find out there was a Star Trek convention in town or something?" I tried to joke, even though I felt like there was more seriousness to the situation.

"No, I'm just having a great night! Hey, Morgan, why don't we ever hang out? We should hang out sometime!"

"Okay, sure. Uh, Reid, you sure you're okay, man?"

"Like I said, never better. Hey, I'm gonna go, there's something I have to write down. Bye."

"Reid, wait..." But I was too late. He had already hung up. I had a daunting feeling, and Reid's voice and actions had only worsened it. I decided I would pull him to the side at work the next day, and really figure out what was up.

When I got to work, I noticed that Reid wasn't at his cubicle. I assumed he was getting some coffee, considering he probably had been up late, as hyper as he was when I had spoken to him. Prentiss was sliding into her chair the same time as me. She looked tired.

"Late night?" I asked her.

"I couldn't sleep. You?"

"I was busy," Busy. That's what I called it. I wasn't going to say, 'I was enjoying the company of a lovely lady'. Well, I could have, it wouldn't have surprised anyone, but I didn't always want to look like a dog. "Hey, where's genius boy?" She looked over at his empty desk.

"Not sure, I haven't seen him today." She yawned as she said the words. I started getting worried. All I could think was, is he ok? I decided maybe he was just late, and I would give him some time. J.J. came around to us.

"Briefing in ten." Her hands were full of files. Killing never stopped, that was one thing we all knew. I told myself I needed to take my mind away from where Reid was and concentrate on the job at hand as we made our way to the conference room. Garcia joined me.

"Baby girl, have you seen Reid?" I asked her as she sat next to me. She looked around the room.

"No, why?"

"I don't know, I just have a bad feeling."

The case was pretty straight forward, and not far away. About an hour down the road. We were getting ready to head out, but Reid still wasn't there. I pulled out my cell phone to call him. Everyone was ready to leave, and Hotch wasn't waiting for the genius to get there. It rang and rang. No answer. Voicemail.

"You've reached Spencer Reid, I'm unable to get to my phone, leave a detailed message with your name and number and I'll get back to you." Beep.

"Reid, it's Morgan, where are you? We're about to leave, man. Call me." I reluctantly hung up the phone. I pulled Hotch to the side. I just couldn't shake the feeling that something bad had happened to my teammate. "Hotch, should I go check on Reid and meet you guys there?" Hotch shook his head.

"It's his responsibility to be here, since he's not we can't afford to loose any more manpower." I didn't like his answer. Despite the fact that he could be annoying at times, and he was a pretty awkward guy, I liked Reid a lot. He was probably my best friend. The thought that something was wrong with him bugged me in a way I couldn't understand, much less explain. But Hotch had spoken, and it was my job to listen to him.


	3. Unwanted Hero

Chapter 3

Reid's POV

My couch and table were covered in papers full of scribbles of all colors. I had used almost all of the pieces out of my notebook, filling every page with the thoughts pouring from my mind. I felt like I was on top of the world, like nothing could ever bring me down. When my brain started to slow, and the room became a little more clear, I separated another line out on the table, snorting it into my bloodstream. The thoughts raced again, the room spun slightly. I wasn't sure what time it was, but I knew that I had not been to bed. I felt this nagging feeling for a moment that I was supposed to be somewhere, but it wasn't important enough to stop what I was doing. I continued my scribblings, unaware of anything else at that moment. That was when my phone started ringing. Derek Morgan. Again. I had talked to him earlier, why was he calling again. Part of me screamed to answer it, wanting to talk to him. He always made me feel better when I spoke to him. There was just something about him, something I couldn't place. The other part of me knew that if I talked to him again, he would realize that I had been a bad boy, after all, we were profilers, and it had been apparent what I was doing the first time, why wouldn't it be now? I ignored the call, feeling bad about it.

Morgan's POV

The case went smoothly, taking just the one day. It was your typical narcissist. That had been his undoing. It was dark when we made it home, and Reid still hadn't called me back. Hotch came up to me.

"Morgan, any word from Reid yet?" I shook my head.

"No, I'm worried about him."

"Go see if you can find him. We'll handle the paperwork."

"Thanks, Hotch." I took off in my car, dialing Reid's number again. I was determined to find him, and find out what was wrong with him. He still wasn't answering, so I kept redialing until he picked up.

"Hello?" He sounded fine.

"Reid, where the _hell_ have you been? You missed a case, and I have been trying to call you all day. Are you alright?" I was furious that he hadn't answered the phone.

"Yeah, Morgan, I'm great, I keep telling you that." He still sounded overly-hyper. That made me even angrier. How could he just be fine, but not have come into work, and not answered the phone?

"Well, I'm on my way over, I'll be there in just a couple of minutes."

"No! I-I mean, no, Morgan, you don't have to. I'm really okay." His voice had changed, almost cracked when he said it. That just solidified the fact that I was going to check on him.

"You're the one that was saying we needed to hang out. Look, I'm pulling up now, open the door." I hung up the phone before he could protest.

Reid's POV

He was at my house. He knew something was going on, and now he was at my house. Why did I answer that stupid phone? There was evidence of what I had been doing all over the place. I jumped to my feet, scooping what was left of the cocaine back into it's bag and hiding it in my desk. The papers would have to stay, because he was knocking at the door. I had missed a case? How long had gone by? I hadn't even realized that it was a new day, much less the end of one. Every time I had started coming back down to reality, I would lift myself right back up. I straightened my hair and clothes, trying my best to look presentable. I was panicking, all I could think was why does he have to be here already? He knocked harder at the door.

"Reid! Open up man!" I rushed to it, knowing he wasn't going to give up. He would kick the door in before walking away.

"Hey Morgan. Come in." I said, trying my best to look and act sober. I was having a hard time concentrating on him, the thoughts in my mind blurring with his actions. He came in, looking around the mess in the room, as he walked next to the couch. He bent down and picked up one of the sheets of paper, his eyes scanning the writing.

"Why didn't you come into work today?" I held my opposite arm, nervously.

"I, honestly, I just, um..." I cleared my throat, not sure what excuse I could use. "I didn't feel well." I lied. Badly. The moment it came out I knew he wasn't going to believe it. His stare told me that I was right.

"Then how come on the phone you said you were fine?" Shit. Time for the web of lies to begin.

"Oh, I just didn't want any one to worry." He stepped closer to me, examining my face and movements.

"Then why didn't you answer any of my phone calls? Or call and let us know why you weren't there?" I chewed the inside of my lip, searching for the right words.

"I was asleep. I just woke up." He picked up several more sheets of paper, examining them.

"These don't look like you've been asleep."

"Oh, uh, I did those last night." I raced around, picking up the many sheets of paper, stacking them neatly on the table.

"Reid, man, look at me, what's going on with you? You've been acting weird since last night." I looked into his eyes. He had a look of genuine concern. I couldn't tell him, though. He would never be able to understand. I started rushing around the room cleaning everything. "Reid! I'm talking to you!"

"Morgan, I'm FINE!" I screamed at him, anger boiling inside of me. But just as I said it, I felt a warm trickling down my face. I touched my upper lip, looking at my fingertips. Red. Blood. My nose was bleeding.


	4. Alone

Chapter 4

Morgan's POV

He was running around, cleaning things. He kept sniffing like he had a cold. His pupils were huge. There was definitely something he was hiding from me. He would only look me in the eyes for a second at a time, almost as if he was afraid I would look into his soul and see his secrets. It was clear he was lying to me. His body language gave that away. He was fidgety and kept scratching his arm. But all of that was nothing, when he started bleeding. I grabbed a tissue from a box of kleenex on the table and moved to stand in front of Reid. I blotted the blood from his face.

"I think you're supposed to hold your head back, ya know, to stop the bleeding." Reid shook his head.

"No, you can choke on the blood, you're supposed to pinch the bridge of your nose." he rambled on. It sounded funny, because I was already pinching his nose with my thumb and index finger, so his words came out nasally and awkward. I smiled for the first time since the night before. We both broke out in laughter.

The next thing I knew, his head was buried in my chest, his hands clenching tight to my shirt. He was sobbing uncontrollably. I wasn't sure why, or what to do, so I wrapped my arms around him, patting him on the back.

"Reid, what's wrong?" I practically whispered the words. I was scared for the kid. I didn't know what was going on with him, but it was obviously serious. After a few minutes of crying, he finally lifted his head. I grabbed another tissue, cleaning the blood and snot from his face. I brushed my thumb over his cheek, wiping away a tear. "Come on, kid, talk to me." He cleared his throat several times, running his fingers through his hair. It was almost as if he couldn't find the words. Like, he wanted to talk to me, but wasn't sure what to say.

Reid's POV

I don't know why I started crying. Well, I do. I was overwhelmed. The situation was more than I could handle. I was angry with myself for letting my resolve break, for throwing away the past three years of sobriety. I was angry with Morgan for being there, forcing me to face what I had done. I was a complete and total mess, my mind was racing, my heart was pounding like it was going to explode out of my chest. Then there was Morgan, just standing there, consoling me, begging me to talk to him. I wanted desperately to tell him what was going on, to ask him for his help. I couldn't though. I couldn't look at this man, who I had worked with closely for years, and tell him that I was a junkie. That I had failed to stay clean.

"Morgan, just leave." I managed to finally say something. I didn't mean it. I didn't want him to go. I knew that as soon as he left I would return to that desk, pull out the powder, and do some more. I knew that I wanted to stay perpetually high at this point. I had to, if I sobered up, I would have to face everything, and I wasn't willing to. Morgan stared at me hard.

"Okay, if that's what you want, I'll go." He turned on his heels, hand reaching for the door knob. Every atom in my body was jumping, I wanted to scream out 'STAY! Please don't go!' but I couldn't. My entire body was shaking, violently. Against my own will, my hand reached out, fingertips brushing his back. His hand was turning the knob. My touch caused him to stop in his tracks.

"Morgan..." I whispered.

"You ready to talk?" I shook my head. No, I wasn't ready.

"I just, don't want to be alone." He sighed and turned around.

"Come here." He led me to the couch, sitting in the corner. I sat next to him. We sat in silence for a while. I was twitching nervously, still feeling the high. He didn't say anything. He didn't push me to talk, he didn't force a confession. He just sat there, waiting for me to say something. It must have been hours later when I started to sober up, feeling more tired than I could ever remember. My head began to nod, but I tried to force myself to stay awake. I fell forward, my head resting on Morgan's leg. I was awake, but completely in a fog. His hand rested on my head, fingers brushing through my hair.


	5. Overload

Chapter 5

Morgan's POV

I wasn't sure why he wanted me to stay, but I wasn't leaving him when he needed me. We sat on the couch together. I thought maybe he would finally say something, anything, but he didn't. He did, however, pass out in my lap. He looked so innocent, laying there. It took a minute for him to really fall asleep, but when his breathing evened, and he stopped shaking, I knew he was out. There was a throw blanket over the back of the couch. I picked it up and covered him with it. Shortly after, I fell asleep, too.

The next morning when I woke up, Reid was still fast asleep. It was nine o'clock, and we were supposed to be at work in an hour.

"Reid! Hey, get up, we have to go to work." I shook him. He didn't budge. "Reid! Get up!" I shouted. Finally, he stirred, looking up at me, slightly confused.

"Morgan?..." Realization dawned on him. I could see him replaying the events of the previous night in his mind. "Oh, wow, thanks for staying with me." He muttered.

"No problem. I still would like an explanation, but for now, you need to get up and get ready for work." He nodded, standing up and going into his bedroom. "Here's what we're gonna tell Hotch, you had a virus, you were in the bed throwing up all day, that was why you couldn't get to your phone. You're really sorry, and it won't happen again. I just hope no one realizes I'm wearing the same clothes as yesterday."

"Thanks for everything. Really, you have no idea..."

"You're right, I don't, and I think that you owe me that much, but Reid, this better not happen again. I'm here for you whenever you need me, but whatever this is, whatever's going on, don't let it interfere with work, because I can't protect you there." He nodded, soaking in my words. He knew that I was serious.

"You don't have to, you know." I looked hard at him.

"I don't have to what?"

"Protect me. You always have, but you don't have to."

"You're my teammate, it's my responsibility." He shook his head.

"No, you don't. I'm always causing problems for you. I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't apologize. It's all good. Let's go to work." I hated the way he was feeling. I wanted to help him, but I wasn't sure what I could do. It was like I could feel his pain, but I couldn't understand it. I was determined that I was going to help him, one way or another, I would get him back on track.

Reid's POV

As soon as we walked into the office, Hotch found us.

"Reid, I need to see you in my office." I dropped my head, worried that I was about to loose my job. When we stepped into his office, he sat down in his chair. "Where were you yesterday?"

"I was sick, I had a virus, I think."

"And that prevented you from picking up a phone?"

"Yes sir, I tried to sleep through it, the pain was pretty bad, and when I wasn't sleeping I was vomiting. I'm sorry, I should have called, it won't happen again."

"If it does I will have to fire you. I don't want to do this, but Strauss said I have to. You're on suspension without pay for one week." I cleared my throat.

"Yes sir. Does that start today?"

"Yes, I'm sorry, but Reid, don't let this happen again. I need you around here." I nodded.

"Yes sir, sorry sir." I mumbled as I walked out. Morgan was at his desk, I could tell he had been watching me.

"Is he mad?" He asked me as I walked up to him.

"Yeah, but so is Strauss. She suspended me for a week."

"Shit. Well, I'll call you tonight, or tomorrow, or whenever we don't have a case, you know how that goes." I nodded. I hoped they didn't have a long case, I wanted him to come over again.

"Yeah, just call me."

When I got home I was furious. I slammed my door shut with force I didn't even know that I possessed, causing the walls to tremble. My eyes immediately trailed to the desk drawer that held my secret treasure. I wanted it. I needed it. No. I wouldn't let myself go there. That was the reason I was here instead of at work. I paced my living room, back and forth, looking at the drawer every time I passed it. I decided to fix myself something to eat to take my mind off of things. I was sitting at the table, spinning my spoon through my cereal, unable to eat it. I had no appetite, at least, not for food. The only thing I could think about, other than the drugs, was what Morgan was doing. What kind of case were they on? Was he okay? What was he thinking about? Was he thinking about me? That last question made me stop in my tracks. Why did I care if he was thinking about me or not? Why had I suddenly become so wrapped around him? Why was he so important to me? I mean, he had always been important to me, we had worked together for years, and he was easily one of my best friends, hell, one of my only friends. But why, all of a sudden, was he the only thing I could think about? All of the questions spun through my head, only making things that much worse. Finally, I broke. I went to my desk. Poison in a bag. What still amazes me to this day is that I knew what it was doing to my system, what I was doing to myself, but I didn't care, I just wanted it. Needed it.

Once again, it only took a few minutes for me to float away into my head. Only this time, I wanted something more. I grabbed my keys and headed for the local liquor store. I searched through the labels, unsure of what exactly I had come for. I always liked wine. It was sophisticated and smelled and tasted better than most alcohols. This night, however, I wanted something different. I could feel my nerves being electrified by the cocaine, my system speeding up little by little. I drug my fingers along the bottles, wanting something that tasted good, but was strong. My fingertips stopped on a black and pink bottle. Tequila Rose. It was strawberry crème flavored. It had the two things I was looking for, strong and sweet. I grabbed the largest bottle on the shelf and went to check out.

"Anything else?" It was a very beautiful young woman behind the counter. She looked to be maybe twenty-six at the oldest.

"Um, yeah, a pack of cheap menthol cigarettes." It was a disgusting habit. One that I had only tried once, years and years ago. I figured I was on a role, and I might as well keep it going. She pulled down the cigarettes.

"That it?" I nodded.

"Yeah."

"That'll be twenty-nine even." I handed her the money. She picked up a pen and wrote something down, dropping it in the bag and smiling at me.

"Thanks." I said, unsure of what she had done.

As I walked out, setting my bag in my car, the dealer I had spoken to the night before approached me.

"Hey man, you need any more?" I looked at him, swallowing back the lump forming in my throat. Fuck it. I was high at the moment, with a bottle of liquor and a pack of cigarettes sitting in my car. Why not?

"Yeah, same as before." I said. He climbed into the passenger seat of my car and we made our deal.

"Do you smoke?"

"Not really, but I have a cigarette if you need one."

"Nah, man, I mean smoke, ya know, reefer?" Marijuana. I had actually never tried that one. Once again I said, fuck it.

"I'll try it." I said, shrugging my shoulders. He handed me a small, foil package with the weed.

"You'll need this." He said as he climbed out of my car. I slid the illegal substances into the bag of alcohol and went home. I poured the stash I already had in with what I had just bought, poured myself some of the tequila, lit a cigarette, and prepared the marijuana. I had never done it before, but I assumed I could just use the laws of physics to roll the weed into the blunt wrap. It was in buds, compacted with seeds and stems. I broke it apart, throwing the seeds and stems into a small bowl I was using for an ashtray, and laying the leaves in the wrap. I placed my thumbs underneath it, rolling the wrap forward, licking the seams to seal it. It didn't look amazing, but not bad for someone who had never done it. I put the cigarette out and lit fire to the blunt. I sucked in deep. Smoke filled my lungs and chest, causing me to feel heavy. As I exhaled the large cloud, I began choking hard. My throat burned as I coughed out the smoke. I grabbed the my drink to cool my throat. Yeah, that was a bad idea. Alcohol does not soothe a burning throat. In fact, it makes the coughing worse. I went to the kitchen and fixed myself a glass of water, still coughing as I drank the liquid. I inhaled the blunt, a little lighter, this time knowing a little better what to expect. I still choked, but not as hard. A few hits in, my eyelids felt heavy. I felt tired, but more alive than ever all at the same time. It was the mixture of the depressant marijuana, and the upper cocaine. My whole body was tingling with pleasure at the feelings coursing through me. I poured more of the tequila, swallowing it back, before relighting the cigarette. It was a menthol burn in my throat that heightened the buzz from the weed. I was feeling really good as I picked through my house, cleaning and rearranging the décor.


	6. Never Alone

Chapter 6

Morgan's POV

I had a hard time concentrating on the case at hand. I hated that Reid had been suspended, because it meant I couldn't keep a watchful eye over him. I checked my phone every few minutes to see if he had called. I wasn't one-hundred percent sure why I was becoming so obsessive over him, but I was, and I just needed to know that he was okay. We were dealing with an spree killer, someone running rampant, killing because of a psychotic break. I was determined we would catch him before the end of the night, so that I could get back and check on Reid.

"Morgan." I was ripped from my thoughts by Prentiss.

"Yeah?"

"What's on your mind? You seem distracted." She was eying me closely.

"Oh, nothing, I was just thinking that we need to hurry up and catch this guy, I mean, we do have ten bodies on our hands." She nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I know what you mean." She paused for a moment, as if to pick the right words. "Uh, I was wondering though, did you have a late night last night?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I didn't want to bring this up in front of the others, but you always look sharp, clean cut, but today, aside from wearing the same wrinkled clothes from yesterday, you look ridiculously tired." I had really hoped no one would notice that.

"Yeah, I, uh, was with someone last night."

"Oh, okay, I get it, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I appreciate it, but I'm good." I realized that I needed to step up my game. I wasn't one to let my home life affect my work. With Reid, though, it was complicated, because he was my work life, yet he had suddenly become a large aspect of my personal one as well.

It took a few more hours, but we finally caught the unsub. It was a man named Henry Shackle. His wife had been raped and murdered the previous week, his stressor. On the jet I was getting impatient, wanting to be back on the ground so that I could get the paperwork over with and get to Reid. Deciding I couldn't take it anymore, I walked to the empty end of the jet and dialed Reid's number. I needed to know that he was okay.

"Reid." It was amazing to hear his voice, to know that he was okay.

"Hey, I just wanted to check in on you. You doing alright?"

"Yeah, I'm _awesome_, but I really wish you were here." He wanted to see me just as badly as I wanted to see him.

"Yeah, me too. We'll be landing soon, and once I finish up my paperwork, I'll be there." I was sounding like a high school boy with a crush, the way I was planning my life around him. Crush. Did I really think that? No way. Derek Morgan was straight, straight as an arrow. The Ladies Man. Player number one. Why would I say something like crush? But when I closed my eyes, it was _him_ that I pictured. His bony, angled frame. His silky locks of brown hair. Those high, defined cheekbones. He was pretty... Wait, pretty? Why was I thinking like this? Reid was my friend. That was it. Spencer Reid. Even thinking his name made me smile. All I wanted was to be there with him, taking care of him. Damn, it was sounding more and more like a crush.

"Good, just call me when you leave the B.A.U."

"Alright pretty boy, I will. Take care of yourself until I get there."

Reid's POV

"Alright pretty boy, I will. Take care of yourself until I get there." Pretty boy. An odd nickname for one man to give another, but it was mine. It was one of the few I'd ever been given that I was okay with. I wouldn't have been okay with it had it come from anyone else. But it didn't, it came from Morgan. Derek freaking Morgan. My personal guardian angel. I knew it would be a matter of time before he would be knocking on my front door, so I rushed to hide all of the evidence of my downward spiraling crash. I left the cigarettes on the table, not really worried about them. I was still on top of the world. An odd mixture of awake, asleep, and drunk. The cocaine forced the thoughts in my mind into hyper drive, while the weed and the tequila slowed down the world around me, making everything seem funnier than it ever had. That was when I realized it had been at least two days since I had showered. Morgan was going to come over, and I smelled like a dying animal. I took off to the shower, scrubbing every inch of my body, and thoroughly enjoying the feel of the hot water as it beat down on my shoulders, relaxing my tense muscles. It also helped sober me up slightly. I pulled on a pair of loose shorts, not feeling like dressing.

As I finished up brushing my teeth and dried off my face, I caught my own gaze in the mirror. It had only been two days (I think) since my descent started, and yet I looked like a seasoned junkie. My eyes were sunk in, large dark circles underneath them. My cheeks were even more hollow than usual. My shoulders looked slumped and time worn. If Morgan didn't notice it would be a miracle...but no, there wasn't even a chance of that. He _would_ notice. I knew him well enough to know that. He would notice, he would start to suspect, he would figure it out. I wanted him to. I wanted him to save me. I just couldn't bring myself to ask, because as well as wanting him to help me, I didn't want him to. I didn't want him to know who I really was. I didn't want to stop feeling this good. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life in fear that I would give in, break down to the cravings. If I kept myself at the bottom, then there would be no lower I could go.

Morgan's POV

I sped through my paperwork, hoping there were no mistakes. I called Reid.

"Hey." Once again, hearing his voice was like feeling sunshine on my skin for the first time in years.

"Hey, I just wanted to let you know, I'm done, but I'm gonna stop by my place and grab some clothes, just in case I end up staying there again."

"Someone noticed?"

"Emily."

"Figures. Okay, well, I'll be waiting. Thanks again for caring, Morgan."

"Don't thank me, Reid, I'm just doing what any good friend does."

I threw some clothes into a bag, fed, watered, and walked my dog, and rushed back to my car, just wanting to be at Reid's already. When I pulled up, he was sitting on the porch with his front door open. He seemed happy, a big smile across his face. He was wearing nothing but a pair of loose fitting shorts. I couldn't help but let my eyes wander his body. I tried to pretend like I hadn't done it. I figured Carl Buford had ruined me for life. Not only had he caused trust issues with every relationship ever, but now I was actually looking at another man in a sexual light. What was wrong with me? I jumped out and had to stop myself from running to him. I sat down next to him. He looked at me.

"Hey, I'm glad you're here." His eyes were bloodshot, his lids only half open. That was when I realized he had an unlit cigarette laying next to him.

"Me too." I didn't know what to say. I know what I wanted to say. I wanted to ask him what the hell was going on. I was a teenager once, I know what weed smells like. I know what someone looks like when they've smoked it. He was definitely high. And cigarettes? When did that start? I was growing more and more worried about him every second. "Are you...Reid, are you high?" He looked taken aback, picking up the cigarette instead of answering me. I almost couldn't believe what I saw when he puffed on it. "Reid..." He let out a heavy sigh.

"Yes." It was all he said. Yes. I almost had wanted him to lie to me. Where had my sweet innocent doctor gone? Okay, well, maybe he wasn't so innocent, he had already been through the battle with the pain killers, but that was years before, why now had he relapsed. At least it was just weed and cigarettes. It could have been worse. "Morgan, I, uh, I'm okay, I just want you to know that. It's just, when you're here, it makes it easier." I placed my hand on his leg.

"Then I'll always be here. I have enough clothes to last a few days." Reid looked up at me, shocked.

"What about Clooney?" He had a point. My dog would not be very happy with me not coming home for days on end, and not feeding him.

"Well, uh, can I bring him here?" Reid let a smile escape his lips.

"Yeah, it would give me some company while I can't work." He leaned his head against my shoulder.

"You okay, Reid?"

"Spencer." He mumbled.

"Huh?"

"My name is Spencer. I think we've known each other long enough to drop the 'Dr. Reid' formalities, don't you?" It was my turn to smile.

"You okay, Spencer?" I corrected myself. He nodded.

"Honestly, I've never been happier than I am at this moment right now." I could feel my heart start racing in my chest. I made him that happy? Then I paused. No. Marijuana made him that happy. I didn't say anything. I just sat there, trying to figure out what I was going to do for my friend. Suddenly, he started laughing hysterically.

"What's so funny?" He sat up, holding his stomach in laughter.

"Heh, I was just thinking about something."

"Thinking about what?" I prodded. I wanted to understand where his brain was at.

"Just a memory. That's all." I sighed. Why was he so shut down? Why wouldn't he just open up to me. Talk to me. It was okay, though, because other than while I was at work, I was going to force myself on him, not letting him out of my sight, until he was normal Reid...Spencer...again. "Hey Morgan."

"Derek, remember?"

"Right, Derek, let's go get Clooney. I don't like being alone, and I'm sure he doesn't either." I nodded. It sounded like a really good idea.


	7. Confessions

Chapter 7

Reid's POV

We were in Derek's car, on our way to his house. I never had been a big animal person, but I knew how much he cared for his dog, and I didn't want him being neglected because of me. I had met the large sheep dog a few times, he seemed to like me. He always jumped on me. I was looking out of the window, watching the lights blur together, making a rainbow show. Music was playing over the radio that I didn't recognize. I was in Derek Morgan's car. Everything was perfect. Well, almost everything, Derek knew that I had smoked weed, but he had no idea about the harder powder, and I wasn't ready for him to. We pulled up in his driveway. I jumped out of the car. I felt like I was floating as I hopped across his stone path. I could feel his eyes watching me. For once in my life, though, I didn't feel self conscious. I didn't really care about much, other than the fact that I was with Derek.

He unlocked the door, letting the dog run out. As usual, he pounced on me. The light feeling in my head caused me to be unable to balance myself. I hit the pavement. Hard. Clooney attacked my face, licking me. Morgan ran up to him.

"Down boy." He said clamly. The dog obeyed, backing up and sitting next to me. I couldn't stop laughing, knowing I looked ridiculous on the ground. When I finally opened my tear-filled eyes, all I could see was Derek's face. He was standing over me, one leg on each side, holding out his hands. I was still giggling as I took them and he pulled me to my feet. I fell forward, landing in his chest, still holding his hands. The feeling was indescribable. I thought it would have been odd, awkward. However, it was warm, and comfortable. I felt...at home. I began to blush, my only saving grace was that my face was already red from the laughter. A few sporadic giggles still passed my lips as his gaze met mine. The look in his eyes was one I had never seen before. I was confused, unsure of what to do. The tonic of drugs and alcohol coursing through my bloodstream caused me to loose all inhibitions. I knew that the next move I made could have destroyed everything we had. I could have made Derek run away from me forever. I could have lost the one good thing left in my life. I couldn't stop myself, though. I leaned forward, letting my lips lightly brush the two in front of me. Shockwaves soared through my body. It was the greatest sensation I could have experienced...at the time. The only question I had was, what the hell was Derek thinking?

Morgan's POV

He looked so adorable...huh...bad word...cute...no...nice...fuck it...adorable, laying there on the ground in a fit of laughter. I felt bad for him. Clooney didn't usually jump on people. Just Spencer. Once he regained his composure I helped him to his feet. He stumbled forward into my arms. The closeness was amazing. I was about to let him go, pull myself away before I did something stupid, when his lips met mine. I was shocked, to say the least. Did Spencer just kiss me? Did I just stand there, doing nothing? Why wasn't I kissing him back? He obviously wanted it. He was the one that made the move. All I could think was, what if it's not him? What if he's just messed up, and clinging to me for support. What if tomorrow he regrets doing it? So I stood there. Fingers still intertwined with his, letting him kiss me. He pulled away slowly, our hands dropping together to the side.

"Spencer...um...do you..."

"Derek, I'm sorry. I don't know what that was. It's just, you, uh, the past few days, having you around, has made me...I don't know...feel things...and I...I'm so sorry. Please, just don't hate me. It won't happen again." He was looking down at his feet. I realized they were his own feelings. I realized they were mine too. So why was I still just standing there? I lifted one of our clasped hands to his face, using one of my fingers to brush a piece of stray hair out of his face.

"Spencer, it can happen again...if you want it to." His head popped up, eyes wide.

"Derek...what, uh, what does that mean?" I smiled at him. Words weren't going to be enough. I pressed our lips together once more. He gasped into my mouth before breaking out in more laughter. Shit. Why was it funny? I had made a mistake. I shouldn't have done it. I felt like I was taking advantage of him in his moment of need.

"Spencer..."

"No..." he choked through the laughs. "I'm not...laughing...at you..."

"Then what's so funny?"

"He's...licking...my toes..." I looked down. Sure enough, Clooney was licking Spencer's feet. I lifted my own foot, putting it to his chest and making him back up. I let go of Spencer and sat down on the stairs of my porch, burying my head between my knees. I felt Spencer sit next to me. "What's wrong?" I looked up at, still leaning on my knees.

"I don't know." I said, honestly. Why was I so upset? We both felt the same way. That made it okay, right? Why was it such a problem for me to want him? That was it, though. _Him_. It wasn't right. It wasn't normal for two men to want each other. But when I held him, it felt right. Wasn't that all that was supposed to matter? That it felt right? Did it matter what other people thought about it? For the first time I was jealous of the young doctor. I wished that I could be as carefree as him. He didn't let other people's perceptions of him affect what he did.

"Derek, it's a lot for one day, so let's just go back to my place, pretend like none of this happened, and start over tomorrow."

"No, it did happen, and I'm okay with that. I just need a minute to gather my thoughts."

Reid's POV

He was right. It had happened, and there was no changing that. My only concern was it changing _us_. Then again, some changes are for the better, right? We grabbed Clooney's things and a few more changes of Derek's clothes before heading back to my house. Clooney insisted on sitting in my lap for the ride, his head hanging out of the window. The marijuana buzz had worn off, but the alcohol and cocaine were still coursing through me. I placed my own head on the window, letting the cold wind whip my face, tangling my hair. When we pulled up at my house, my face was numb from the cold wind. I shook my head, rubbing my hands on my cheeks for friction. Derek walked in front of me.

"I told you not to do that."

"Yeah, I know, but it felt good." He shook his head at me, placing his own hands on my cheeks and rubbing them gently.

"They're like ice." But to me, they were burning. His touch lit me on fire. I let my head fall against his shoulder.

"Derek, why do things have to be complicated?"

"That's life, pretty boy. And trust me, it doesn't get any better." He wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight, as if I was going to disappear. I still wasn't sure where we stood, but I didn't mind. As long as he held me, I was fine.

We were curled up on the couch, Clooney stretched across us, watching the television, when I started to sober up. The thousands of thoughts slowed to just a few, and the bright room dimmed to a normal view. The leg that had been bouncing relentlessly slowed, and the finger that had been fidgeting with Derek's stopped. He looked down at me.

"Your body language just changed completely. Are you okay?" I nodded. I thought that if he was there when I came down that I wouldn't want to go back up. I was wrong. Now he was an obstacle. I hated to think of him like that. My eyes continually shifted the the desk and back to Derek, hoping he would fall asleep. I reached for a cigarette, hoping that would help. He pulled away from me, scooting to the opposite side of the couch.

"...Derek?"

"I hate those things." Was all he said. I wanted to put it out for him. I didn't want him to be uncomfortable. At the same time, I needed _something_. I puffed on the stick, hard, sucking back the smoke into my lungs. Derek had a look of disgust on his face. A few hits in, I stubbed it out.

"Hey, uh, since you already know that I do it...would it bother you...if I..." I didn't want to ask, but I had to. I needed to take my mind away. I certainly wasn't going to get away with the cocaine.

"Go ahead. But know, I don't condone it." I walked in shame to my desk, only opening it enough for my own vision. I withdrew the partly smoked blunt, returning to my seat. I avoided eye contact while I smoked it, not wanting to see the disapproving looks I knew I was receiving. Once my limbs felt heavy, I put it out. Derek was in the far corner of the couch, propped up on his hand. I crawled over to him, laying my head in his lap.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked.

"No, but I want you to stop." I nodded as he laid his hand on my head, twirling my hair in his fingers. The sensation was amazing. Feeling his skin on mine was more than I could handle. I always heard that weed intensified everything around you, but I never truly understood it until then. I lifted myself up so that I was eye level with Derek.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" He asked.

"For not being the naïve innocent guy that i'm supposed to be." He laughed, kissing my forehead.

"Kid, you're not supposed to be anything other than you. Like I said, you shouldn't be doing this stuff, and we'll deal with it in time, but you aren't 'supposed' to be innocent. You're twenty-eight, not three." I smiled, pressing myself closer to his hard body.

"Yet you call me 'kid'." I said, laughing.

Something I never knew until I did it, a side affect of marijuana usage...you're more...needy? That's a bad way to put it, though. The book definition would be 'horny'. Sensation is amplified by the drug, thus the muchies, which I definitely had. So every time Derek touched me in any way, it was intensified, amplified through my body, causing me to want him more and more. I didn't want to push anything, but I wanted him to know what I was after. I would lightly stroke his leg, close to his thigh. I would randomly reach up and kiss his cheek, watching his reaction closely. His eyes would get bigger, from shock, then he would settle down, and a small smile would creep across his face. The best he would do was trace his fingers over my back in small circles.

"Derek."

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me." He looked down at me for a moment before pressing his lips to mine in a rough kiss. My hands grabbed the sides of his head as I melted into it. My lips felt like they had been electrified. Every inch of me was screaming for more. He pulled away.

"Like that?" He asked, a cocky smile on his face. I nodded.

"Yeah, thanks." I said before burying my face in his chest.


	8. Admissions

Chapter 8

Morgan's POV

I woke up yet another morning on the couch with Spencer curled around me. He was sleeping hard, so I figured I shouldn't wake him up. Sleeping late was going to be one of the only advantages to him being suspended. I slipped out from under him, covering him up. I went to the bathroom and got dressed. When I came back into the living room, Clooney was acting as Spencer's pillow. I sat on the edge of the coffee table, not wanting to shake the sleeping pair. When I did, a brown paper bag fell to the floor. I bent down and picked it up. A small card fell out of it. 678-555-0192 Samantha Call me. And a smiley face. A fire burned in my chest. Who was this woman? Why did Spencer have her number? I slid the number in my pocket, deciding we would talk about it later.

When I got to work, Hotch called me into his office.

"Yeah, Hotch?"

"How is Reid?" I cocked one eyebrow at him.

"What do you mean?"

"You came to work in the same clothes two days in a row. He couldn't tell me a specific virus or it's symptoms, which leads me to believe someone coached him on what to say. You look like you haven't been sleeping in your own bed. You called him twice after the case yesterday, and you looked at your phone every ten minutes, as if you were waiting for a call." Hotch profiled us. I didn't like that. No point in avoiding it.

"He's okay. I've been staying with him to make sure of it. He just needed a few day's rest."

"I'm going to trust you on that. I hope you're right. The B.A.U. can't afford to loose him, and if he's doing what you and I both know he is, then we will." I nodded. I had avoided even thinking about what Hotch meant, but how could I? There was no way that he was only smoking weed, he was too hyper for that. No, there was something worse at hand, and apparently, I had to fix it or Spencer was going to loose his job.

"Briefing in five." J.J. said, opening the door and walking right back out. Hotch nodded at me, and we both stood and went to the conference room. Today's case was a pedophile. He kidnapped boys age five to seven, held them for four days, molested and raped them with foreign object, then broke their necks, dumping them along a river bank in Missouri. He had three bodies on his hands, and had kidnapped another young boy the night before. The clock was ticking. We had three days to find him or that boy was going to die. Personally, I gave us one day to find him, because I didn't want to be away from Spencer that long. I was worried about what he might do in my absence.

Reid's POV

I tried hard to be good. So hard. I smoked a cigarette, trying to satisfy my cravings. Six minutes. I laughed to myself. I used to tell my mother every time she lit a cigarette it was six minutes off of her life. Six minutes I wouldn't get to spend with her. Once again, my resolve broke. I walked to the desk and pulled out the fine powder. Just as I was putting the straw to my nose, I felt Clooney's paw on my leg. He was whimpering.

"Clooney, let's keep this just between the two of. Okay? Don't tell Daddy." I then made a 'shh' sound and patted him on the head. He laid his chin on my leg, still whimpering. I finished what I had started, snorting the cocaine up my nose. I closed my eyes, preparing myself for the rush that was to come. My nerves began bouncing as the thoughts started. I was about to start writing again, when Clooney ran to the door, wagging his tail and whining. "You gotta go outside boy?" He jumped on the door, dragging his paws down it. "Okay, let's go outside." I got up and opened the door, allowing him to roam the front yard. He marked his territory in several places before bringing me a large stick. "Oh, do you wanna play?" I took the stick, tossing it across the yard. A few short moments later, he was back with it. I took advantage of my energy burst, running through the yard with him. We rolled in the grass, played fetch, and chased each other until he was panting from the heat. I took him in the house and fixed him some water, pouring myself a drink of the tequila. I felt like if I allowed myself to be sober I would break in half, so I continued to flood myself with toxins of all kinds. Anything I could put my hands on. I picked up my phone several times, looking to see if maybe Derek had called. When he hadn't, I would sigh and place it back in my pocket. I decided I needed to get out of the house for a while. I made up a grocery list and went to the local market, spending most of the day there.

Morgan's POV

At the end of the day we weren't any closer to catching the unsub. He left no evidence on the bodies or at the scene of the crime. All I could think was, if Spencer was here, we would be able to catch this guy. Spencer. All I wanted was to go back to him. I was certain that whatever it was he was taking, he was doing it now. I was staring at an evidence board, scribbling my thoughts on it, when Hotch came up behind me.

"The others are already checked in, go get some sleep." I shook my head.

"No, I'm gonna figure this out."

"Morgan, that wasn't a request, it was an order. We'll have a better chance of catching this guy with fresh eyes." I nodded.

"Okay, yeah, you're right."

"I know you're worried about him. You can call him from the hotel."

Once I was in the hotel, dressed down and laying in the bed, I pulled out my cellphone and called Spencer.

"Hey, I was wondering when you were going to call." He sounded excited again.

"Hey, it's not good news."

"You didn't catch him."

"Nope. So it'll be at least tomorrow until I can come home."

"Well Clooney's here to keep me company, so it'll be okay, I guess."

"I, uh, I miss you." I said nervously. I didn't want to sound weird, but it was the truth. I missed him a lot. I was worried about him more.

"I miss you too, Derek. Hurry up and catch this guy and come home."

"I'm trying. Spencer, you, you aren't doing anything stupid, right?"

"No, just laying on the couch with a drink. Why?"

"I just wanted to make sure."

"Derek, get some sleep, catch the unsub, come home."

"Goodnight Spencer."

Reid's POV

I had really hoped that he would come home that night. Well, my home. He didn't. He was stuck in Missouri looking for some sicko, instead of laying with me on the couch. I began to grow angry that he wasn't there. It was like a bubble was sitting in the pit of my stomach, and it grew with every moment's thoughts about Derek not being there. I walked around the living room, pacing for a minute, before slamming my fist hard into the wall, leaving a hole in its place. My knuckles were bleeding, but I felt no pain. The anger inside of me quelled slightly.

"Clooney." I called. He came running to my side. "Let's sleep in the bedroom tonight." He followed me to my bed, curling under my arm. I laid there for over an hour, trying to sleep, to no avail. I jumped to my feet, the dog's head following my movements, and went get the blunt, figuring it would calm me down enough to get some rest. I sat on the edge of my bed, looking at the drug in my hand. Suddenly, I burst into tears once again. It was uncontrollable. I was on a downward spiral, and it wasn't going to stop. I pulled my cell phone out.

"Hello?" Derek's voice sounded tired. It was, after all, two o'clock in the morning.

"Derek?"

"Spencer, what's wrong?"

"I lied to you."

"About what?"

"About not doing anything stupid." He was silent for a minute.

"What did you do?"

"I, uh, I'm not really ready to tell you, but I wanted you to know, to know that I have a problem."

"Spencer, I'm not stupid. Tell me in your own time, because I can't help you until you're ready to accept my help. Is there anything I can do to help you right now?"

"Just stay on the phone with me."

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Tell me about the case. Maybe I can offer some help."


	9. Urges Met

Chapter 9

Morgan's POV

I talked to Spencer until I couldn't hold my eyes open any more, telling him every detail of the case, hoping something would trigger for him.

"Derek."

"Yeah?" I mumbled. I was becoming incoherent.

"Go to sleep. I can tell you want to pass out. If I can think of anything I'll call you."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. I think I'm ready to go to sleep."

"Goodnight pretty boy."

"Goodnight Derek."

The next day I woke up to my phone ringing. It was Spencer.

"Hello?"

"Derek, hey, didn't you say the last body was found in the woods rather than on the river bank?"

"Yeah. Does that mean something?"

"I think...I could be wrong, but I think it means he knew that one. He didn't want to take a chance of the body being drug away with the water. That one was special to him." Damn, why hadn't I thought of that.

"Thanks pretty boy."

"Call me when you catch him."

"You got it." I ran off to tell Hotch of the findings.

"And Reid came up with this?"

"Yeah, I know I probably shouldn't have talked about the case to him, but I figured a fresh pair of ears might help."

"It's okay, this sounds plausible. Have Garcia run through a list of possibles. We'll each take a victim's home, get anything you can on any possible suspect."

"Right."

We spent the whole day running through suspects. Finally we came across a name that fit the profile. Erik Dawson. When we pulled up at his house, we caught him with the little boy, running into his car. I chased him as fast as I could, but I didn't make it. He got away. We searched the town for hours, road blocks up everywhere, but we just couldn't find him. J.J. held an emergency press conference, asking anyone who knew anything to please come forward. We couldn't go door to door, afraid that we would scare him and he would kill the boy. All we could do was wait. Hotch ordered all of us back to our rooms, promising a phone call if he heard anything.

Reid's POV

Day two by myself. I started it off just as I had the day before. A cigarette and a line. My nose bled more, but I just wiped it away and went about my day. The bridge of my nose was numb, I suppose from too much exposure to the drugs. I decided it was a good day to cut the lawn. I let Clooney sit on the porch while I jumped on my riding mower and rode through the yard. I was sweating profusely, but not tired in the least. I even went as far as to grab a pair of clippers and trim my small rose bushes I had around my house. My final chore for the day was to clean my porch. I pulled out my ladder, a bucket, and a sponge, and went to scrubbing. Clooney tried to help me, dragging the bucket along side me, but really he just spilled more water than anything.

I decided we deserved a treat. I grabbed the cigarettes and the dog, and took him to the park. He ran around excitedly. There was a river flowing next to us, we decided a swim sounded great in the hot weather. Once we were done, we laid across the grass to dry off. I felt like nothing could ever take me out of the excitement I was feeling. I was on top of the world, king of it all.

We got back home and laid down on the couch together. I was starting to come down to reality. That was not good. I dug for more cocaine, but it was empty. I looked for the blunt, but it was gone. I reached for the tequila, but there was none left. All I had was a couple of cigarettes. No, no, no, this would never do. I jumped in my car, heading straight for the same alley I had frequented so many times, years ago.

I bought another forty's worth of cocaine, and a twenty's worth of weed. I stopped by the gas station to buy some wraps on my way home. Clooney gave me a look like he knew what had happened.

"Don't look at me like that." I mumbled, walking past him. I broke up a thicker line this time, breathing it in. I rolled the weed into three blunts, smoking half of one and putting the rest of the paraphernalia away in its usual spot. Back up, up, up. I rose into the clouds. I felt invincible. No one could ever take me down. That was when my phone rang.

"Hello!" I was hyped to the extreme.

"Spencer, I just wanted to tell you, we ID'ed the unsub, but he got away. We'll have him caught by tomorrow, though."

"Oh, so you're not on your way home?"

"No, unfortunately not."

"Okay, well, I'll uh...see you tomorrow then, hopefully."

"The good news is, Hotch said he's gonna try and give all of us Friday since this case has taken a minute. That way we can rest. So I'll be home with you."

"Assuming you aren't still in Missouri." I scoffed.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, it's not your fault. I just wanted to see you is all."

"Me too, Spence, me too." We were both silent for a minute. It was me that spoke up.

"I want you, Derek."

"What?" He choked out.

"I – want – you." I repeated. I was messed up beyond belief, and I wanted Derek to know just what I was feeling.

"Spencer, I uh..."

"When I think about you it drives me crazy. I want to...to do things." I wasn't really one to talk about sex, so I was having a hard time finding the words.

"Oh, really?" Morgan had calmed down from the initial shock, and by the apparent smile in his voice, didn't mind what I was saying.

"Yeah. It's too bad you aren't here. I'm just sitting here, all alone, and very needy."

"If I was there, what would we be doing?" Wow, was I really having this conversation?

"Well, we would be laying in my bed..."

"Yeah?" His voice was enough to cause a physical reaction.

"And I would be on top of you..."

"Sounds right."

"You would just lay there and let me do all of the work..." My hand found it's way into my pants as I saw _exactly_ what I would do to him in my mind.

"What would you do?" His voice sounded excited, like he wanted to see how far I was ready to go for him.

"I would touch you. Kiss you. Lick you." I gliding my hand along my growing erection as I imagined myself on top of Derek, able to act on all of those pent up emotions. "I would give myself to you."

"Yeah? All of you?" His words sounded chopped and heavy. Was he doing the same thing I was?

"Every last inch of me." My hand moved faster as I listened to his heavy breathing.

"What are you doing now?" Should I tell him the truth? What was I supposed to say? Touching myself while thinking about you? Your large body pressed to mine, our two bodies becoming one? Despite how bold my cocktail had made me, I wouldn't say that.

"T-touching myself..." I finally choked out.

"R-really?"

"Mm hm." I mumbled, bringing myself closer to climax.

"You're thinking about me?"

"Mmm huh." I was getting close.

"I like that. Don't stop thinking about me."

"What should I think about?" I pushed him, wanting to hear him say that he wanted to take me.

"Think about all of the things I'm going to do when I get back. I'm going to ravage you, Spencer. I haven't stopped thinking about you and having you all to myself since I got here."

"Derek, tell me how you feel about me..." My wrist moved even faster, my vision was blurring.

"Spencer...I...love you." That was all it took. My vision went white as I came.

"I love...you...too." I panted. "I love you." I repeated. It felt good to say it out loud. A weight lifted off of my chest, no longer avoiding the emotions I had held for a long time. Now I could finally admit it, not only to myself, but to him.

"You're insane. You know that?" He asked, causing me to laugh.

"Is that a problem?"

"No, you keep me on my toes. Just when I think I've got you figured out, you do something like this, and I have to start over."

"Are you going to stay on the phone with me again?"

"Of course." And he did. Until I made him hang up, because I could hear sleep overtaking him as we spoke.

"Goodnight Derek. Try to come home tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Spence. I'll do everything I can to make sure it happens."

Morgan's POV

When I woke up the next day I had to think hard to see if what had happened was dream. Had Spencer and I really done that? It was like...soft core phone sex. He had admitted to me that he was pleasuring himself, what he didn't know is it was a two way street. His voice was just so...sexy...I couldn't help myself. All I honestly cared about at this point was getting back to him and showing him that what I meant what I had said.

It took me no time to get to work. I was on the streets, looking everywhere for Erik. He was the reason I wasn't with Spencer, and I _would_ catch him. That day. No more waiting. I was walking down a popular strip when I caught a glimpse of him. He was ducking into an alley. I took off after him, running as fast as possible. He tried to climb a fence to get away, but I jumped, grabbing him by his legs and wrestling him to the ground. I slammed him hard against the concrete.

"Where's the kid?" I screamed as I handcuffed him, calling Hotch with our location.

"You'll never find him." Great, we had the unsub, now we just had to find the kid.

Hotch and I interrogated him for hours before he finally cracked. His stressor had been the death of the one person that kept him in check over the years, his father. We used that against him. He finally cracked when I brought up the subject, revealing that the little boy was being kept in a warehouse. Once he was returned to his family, the team and I bid farewell to Missouri and headed to our jet.

I was staring out the window, thinking about Spencer and hoping he was okay, when Hotch came to sit across from me.

"That was good work back there. J.J. said we don't have any urgent cases, so it looks good that we'll get to stay home tomorrow. Just stay on standby."

"That's cool. I was hoping for it."

"Tell Reid we couldn't have done it without him."

"He'll appreciate that."

"He'll be at work Monday, right?"

"Of course."

"Take care of him."

"Of course." I repeated. I didn't need to be told to do it. It was just a part of who I was. Once I was alone again, I pulled my phone out and called him.

"Hello?"

"We'll be home in about an hour. Of course we have paperwork, but I should be there by six or six thirty."

"That's great!"

"You sound excited."

"I am! I can't wait for you to get here."

"I'll call when I leave the office."

"Please. And, Derek..."

"Yeah?"

"Hurry."

"You got it."


	10. Desire And Despair

Chapter 10

Reid's POV

Derek was coming home. I was zooming, rushing to clean every inch of the house, as well as myself. I think Clooney knew he was on his way, because he didn't leave the floor in front of the door, waiting for his owner. I did a quick line to hold me over, knowing I wouldn't be able to once Derek was home. I was ecstatic at the thought of seeing him. I decided I wanted to set a nice mood, so I pulled out some candles I had in my closet. I lined the table with them. The room was lit up. Now all that I had left to do was wait. Wait for him to come home to me. A couple of hours later my phone rang.

"Hello?"

"I'll be there in a few minutes." My heart jumped. Yes. He was going to be here soon. I was going to explode from excitement.

"Hurry."

"Going as fast as I can."

"Go faster."

"I'm almost to our street." _Our_ street. I liked the way it sounded. He had spent two nights at my house, and I already had his clothes and his dog, and now he was calling it _ours_. Maybe he did feel as strongly about us as I did. Every electron in my body was firing off. Energy bubbled inside of me, screaming to be let free.

"Are you here yet?"

"I'm about fifteen feet from the driveway." I opened the door, not wanting anything blocking him from my sight. Clooney walked onto the porch with me as Derek pulled into my driveway. He threw the car into park and hopped out.

"Welcome home." I said, standing, waiting for him.

"It's good to be back." He was standing in front of me, just inches out of my grip. Clooney sat directly in front of him, pawing at his leg. "Hey boy. Were you good for Spencer?" He barked once.

"He was great. We got along really well." I held out my hand. He took it. "Let's go inside." I was extremely aware of the existence of my hand as I felt his smooth skin in mine. He closed the door behind him with his foot.

"Wow, it looks nice in here."

"I tried." I was trying to look more...feminine. I knew that was what he liked, he didn't like guys. I did have the right frame, the right structure, the right cheekbones. The candlelight helped in my pursuits. I stood so that our noses were almost touching, placing one hand on his chest. His eyes met mine. He had that look again, that look of desire. My chest felt as if it was melting, my whole body was ablaze. It was me that made the first move, no longer able to control myself. I pressed our lips together, wrapping my arms around his neck. He closed what little distance there was between us, gripping onto my hips, pulling me into him. He was holding me so tightly, I knew there would be bruises left behind when he let go. I didn't care. The sensation was amazing. I let my bottom lip fall slightly, allowing him access, if he wanted it. His tongue almost immediately slid into my mouth, wrestling with my own. One of his hands released my hip, roaming to squeeze onto my butt. I rolled my body into his as a response.

We broke apart for air. I let my forehead rest on his as I caught my breath. He literally took my breath away. His hand rubbed across my back, up and down, sending shivers across my spine. I left a quick, sweet kiss on his lips before laying my head on his shoulder.

"Are you staying home tomorrow?" I could feel his heartbeat in my own chest. Mine was racing, his was slightly elevated.

"That's the plan. Of course, you know how life at the B.A.U. goes." I nodded. I did. I was ready to go back. It would beat the hell out of staying home alone. Well, staying home with the dog. "Hey, as much as I want to stand here with you, I'd really like to take a shower." I gave him puppy eyes, dragging my hand down his chest.

"Okay, I guess..." I didn't want to let him go. I backed up, but kept my arms clasped around his waist. He stepped forward.

"You have to let me go." I shook my head, my hands moving to pull his shirt over his head. He took another step forward. I moved backwards with him, throwing his shirt to the ground. Another step forward for him. Another step backwards for me. Next, my hands moved to his belt. I unclasped it, then with one swift movement pulled it free from the loops, letting it hit the floor as well. Another step forward. Another step backwards. Another step. One more. One more. We were almost in the doorway of the bathroom. I pulled the zipper to his pants down and unbuttoned them. My eyes were fixed on his chest. He was cut so beautifully. My lips moved to plant a quick kiss on his muscles while I pulled his pants and boxers down. He stepped out of them. There he was, standing in front of me, completely nude. It was breathtaking. Garcia was always calling him a 'sex god'. She nailed it. His body was perfect. He had a cute grin spread across his face. I turned the hot water on for him as he stepped into the shower. I took off my own clothes and stepped in with him. I watched his expression to see if it was okay. He just kept smiling. I wanted desperately to know what was going through his mind. He adjusted the water so that it wasn't too hot, before pulling me closer to him and kissing me.

"Derek, I'm not moving too fast, am I?" He laughed.

"Only if it's too fast for you, kid." He grabbed my bath sponge and poured some shower gel onto it. After lathering it up, he began to massage my body with it. I can't even describe the sensations running through my body. Every spot he touched was electrified. He moved across my body. My arms, my chest, my abdomen, my legs. He cleaned every part of me. Once he had rinsed me off, I took the sponge and returned the gesture, moving slowly over all of his muscles. He closed his eyes, head tilted back, as I caressed his skin. He stood under the water as I ran my fingers over him, washing away all of the soap. My fingers trailed down his body, lingering just above his groin. I teased him with my fingers, kissing his neck and chest. He leaned his back against the wall. I wrapped my fingers around his shaft, stroking him slowly. He took my hand in his, speeding the movements of my wrist. He bit down on his bottom lip, his free hand grabbing onto my shoulder. He moved my hand even faster before his body clenched up, climaxing into the shower floor. He pulled me into a rough kiss.

Morgan's POV

As if the light touches he had teased me with weren't already enough, here we were, standing naked together, my hand guiding Spencer's as he got me off. It was different from any other experience in my world. Despite the many things that I had done with the varied women of my past, he had been the best. I guess it was because it was the first time I had actually felt something for the person I was with, but I felt like I was soaring. I drug him into a rough kiss, having lost control of myself. My hands groped him, grabbing handfuls of skin anywhere I could. My lips trailed down his jaw to his neck, leaving small kisses. Every few seconds he would make some small noise. A gasp, or a moan into my ear. Then I heard my phone ringing.

"Ignore it." His voice was pleading.

"Spencer, you know I can't."

"Please." I took his cheek in my hand and kissed him.

"I have to." I didn't want to, but it was my job. The thought of leaving him standing there tore me up, but I really had no choice. I walked past him, tying a towel around my waist. "Hello?"

"Morgan, I'm sorry, but I need you back at the B.A.U."

"What's going on?" I was pissed. I wanted to stay with Spencer. I already had left him alone for three days, now, after not even being back an hour, I had to leave him again. Life was cruel sometimes.

"We have a bomb threat in D.C." I sighed. Bombs. As if I hadn't dealt with them long enough in the past.

"On my way." When I hung up the phone, Spencer was standing behind me.

"You're really leaving, aren't you?"

"Come on, man, you know how it is. I wish I could stay, but I can't." His eyes were shooting daggers. He looked hurt. "I'm really sorry." I wrapped my arms around him. "I'll make it up to you as soon as I get back." A small grin caught his lips. "That's my boy." I kissed him once more before grabbing my clothes and leaving.

Reid's POV

The door closed in my face, as if mocking me. It's sound echoed in my ears. I finally broke past my nerves and self-consciousness in time for Derek to be ripped away from me. Heat boiled in my chest. Anger took over all of my senses. I kicked the wall, leaving a hole. I turned into the kitchen, knocking everything on the counters into the floor. I couldn't believe he had really left. I was so upset, it was like something else had taken control of me. Clooney barked at the sudden noises, running to the kitchen doorway to check on me. I wasn't in the mood to deal with him. I breezed past him into the living room. I walked back and forth for a minute, trying to calm down, but I couldn't stop thinking about how mad I was. I wasn't even sure why I was so angry. I had been in that situation countless times. Just walk through the door in time to be called away again. The difference that night was that I couldn't go with Derek. Helping catch a bomber might not sound like fun, but at least I could have been with him. That was the only thing keeping me from snapping. Now that he was gone, the dam had broke. When I couldn't calm myself down, I almost turned on the coffee table. My only saving grace was that I was collected enough to realize there were lit candles on it, and I would have burned down my house. Part of me didn't care, I wanted to throw the candles across the room. The other part of me asked, would Derek stay with you if you burned down your home?

I sat on the couch, breathing heavily, after blowing out the flames. The room was dark, I couldn't see in front of me. I didn't want to. I wanted to sit in the dark and cry. What was happening to my life? One week before I was just some genius kid that worked for the F.B.I., profiling serial criminals. Now I was snorting cocaine, smoking, and not even allowed to go to work. Oh, and did I leave off in love with my best friend? The worst part was that the longer I did it, the easier it was to make excuses, I honestly believed I could go on living this way. Even though I knew that I was going to loose my badge, and worse, I could have lost the one good thing in my life, Derek Morgan.

A/N – In case you didn't know, cocaine makes you very violent, and a lot of times insecure. People tend to become clingy, almost obsessive over any one thing. In Reid's case, Morgan. And that was my drug lesson for the day. Thanks to all of my readers. Please review. I appreciate criticism and I love being told I'm awesome. ^_^


	11. Timing

Chapter 11

Morgan's POV

I had a bad feeling. Even worse than the one I'd had the night this all started. I wanted more than anything to run back to my car and rush back to Spencer. It wasn't going to happen, though. I had to stay and do my job. Other people's lives depended on it. J.J. and Hotch briefed us on the situation. I tried to focus on them, after all, bombs were my thing, but I was having a hard time not wondering what Spencer was doing.

"I don't think I need to express how delicate this situation is. A lot of people's fate are in our hands." Hotch was stressing his point. I knew I needed to make sure I was on my 'A' game.

We were at a government building. There was a man inside who was saying he had a bomb and if anyone came in he would detonate it. There was over fifty people inside. Negotiations weren't going very well. He didn't want to talk to us.

"Hotch, let me go in. Maybe if I can talk to him in person I can get some kind of idea of what to do." I wanted to hurry up and resolve the situation. I just wanted to go home. I was beyond the point of tired. Worried sick about Spencer. All I wanted was to be at home, in the bed, with him.

"Out of the question, Morgan. He's too unstable."

"Come on, I've got plenty of experience with bombers, you know that." He looked thoughtful for a moment as I pleaded.

"No."

"Hotch! Trust me! What other options do we have? We can't let all of those people die. He's obviously willing to die for this!" Hotch sighed, knowing I was right.

"You'll have to go in unarmed."

"I know." He walked over to the phone they were using to communicate.

"We are going to send one of our men in, unarmed. Is that okay?"

"Why?" The man sounded angry.

"To try and help you get whatever it is you want." There was silence for a minute.

"Fine. But no tricks!" Hotch nodded at me. I unstrapped my gun holster and set it down. Taking a deep breath, I headed for the building. Once I walked through, he had two of the hostages pat me down.

"No tricks, man. I just want to help you. What is it that you want?"

"What do I want? I want the government to realize that there are consequences for their actions! I want JUSTICE!" He screamed. He had a small build. In his right hand was a remote, no doubt his device to set the bomb off.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" I walked forward slowly, holding my hands out so he could see them.

"Help me? Now you want to help me? No one wanted to help me when I had NOTHING!" My heart was racing. He was high strung, and in my experience high strung bombers tend to act irrationally.

"Look man, whatever happened, I can't take that back, but killing all of these people, that's not going to change anything."

"They killed her! It's their turn to see what it's like to lose someone they love!" Okay, so there was my stressor.

"Her? You're wife?"

"Fiance, we didn't get to see our wedding day. And do you know why?"

"Why? What happened?"

"Because they let her die!" His finger was shaking over the button. I didn't think he really wanted to hurt anyone. I figured he was just trying to send a message. His shaking finger, however, made me scared that he was going to accidentally send us all flying.

"I'm sure it was an accident. Come on, just set that thing down. This isn't going to help anything. I promise."

"Y-yeah?"

"Look, lets let these people go, it can be just you and me. Can we do that?" He swallowed hard, debating on my offer.

"You're gonna stay, right?"

"Right. I'm not going anywhere, just let these people go." He nodded.

"Okay, okay."

"You heard him, everyone out!" People flooded out of the doors. Once I was sure everyone was clear of the building, I stepped closer to the man. "So, what do you want?"

"I just want them to recognize what they did to her."

"Tell me, what did they do?" I took another step closer.

"Stay back!" I paused in my tracks.

"Just put the remote down. It doesn't have to end like this."

"It does. It really does." He looked down at his hand and went to press the button. Nothing happened. He started laughing. "Fifty second delay..." he muttered. He wanted me to think I was safe. I turned and ran towards the door. I was moving as fast as I possibly could when I heard the explosion, and felt the heat on my back. I barreled through the door, ducking behind a car, hands over my head. The building around me exploded, debris flying everywhere.

Reid's POV

I was sitting on the couch, still in the dark, with Clooney on my lap, when I suddenly got a bad feeling, like Derek was in trouble. I grabbed at my chest as if I couldn't breathe.

"Derek, you better be okay." I whispered into the air. I turned on the light, firing a blunt. I figured the best way to make it until I knew he was okay, would be to sleep. I curled up and laid down, letting the heaviness take over me, lulling me to sleep.

The piercing ring of my cell phone woke me up. I didn't even look to see who was calling, I just picked it up and answered it.

"Hello?" I was still worried about Derek.

"Spencer?"

"Yeah, Derek, hey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, well, a little banged up, but I'm okay. What about you?" I looked around at the house. Banged up, yeah, that was a good way to put it.

"I'm okay. Are you coming home?"

"Yeah, we couldn't save the building or the unsub, but there were no victims at least."

"Good. How long?"

"Probably about three hours before I can be there."

"Hurry."

"Hurrying." I should have gotten up and cleaned, but looking at the mess just made me angry again, so I curled back up to sleep until Derek came home.

A few hours later, there was knocking at the door. I thought, note to self, get Derek a key. When I opened the door I noticed some bruises and scrapes on his arms. He noticed the house.

"Spencer...what the hell happened?" I looked at my feet.

"Um, I, uh, got a little angry..."

"And you destroyed your house? It's a mess in here! What could have made you this mad?" He was looking down at the wreckage, rolling broken pieces over with his foot. That anger was coming back. I wasn't mad at Derek, not at all, but I _was_ mad. I was mad that everything was catching up to me. I was mad that I had wrecked my own home. I was mad that I wasn't sober. I was mad that I was sobering up. Everything in my head was crumbling together, and it was driving me insane.

"NOTHING! I told you I'm FINE!" I shouted at him. He looked taken back by my harshness.

"Spencer, I've given you all the time I can, you _have_ to tell me what the hell is going on in that oversized brain of yours!" He looked genuinely worried about me. It didn't matter, though. I honestly just couldn't handle it anymore. My mind felt like it was going to tear apart. The anger inside of me boiled faster and hotter than it ever had. I needed to breathe, but it felt like there was no air left in my chest.

"Derek just leave me alone!" I screamed as I took off to my bedroom, slamming the door. With one hand I slung the books sitting on my shelf into the floor. The resulting crash echoed through the house. I screamed into a pillow laying on my bed. I just knew that I would never make it through the night.

Morgan's POV

I was in shock. Spencer had screamed at me. The house was like a war zone. Clooney was crouched in the corner, barking every few minutes. I didn't want to fight with him, but he had to explain everything to me. He had to let me know what was happening to him. Then I heard a loud crash and a muffled scream coming from the bedroom. I took off down the hallway to check on him. When I opened the door he was laying on his back on the bed. He was holding a pillow over his face, screaming his lungs out.

"Spencer!" I ran over to the bed. I pulled the pillow away to see small beads falling from his eyes. "Spencer...baby boy, talk to me..." He began sobbing uncontrollably. I climbed on top of him, pinning him to the bed with my weight. He struggled against me, flailing his limbs. I held his arms down with my hands, and twisted his legs with mine.

"Derek just let me _go_! I need to get something!" I shook my head.

"No, not until you talk to me!" He continued to try and struggle, but I easily over powered him. He was still crying, his face turning red.

"No! LET ME GO!" He screamed.

"TALK TO ME!" I yelled back. His body fell limp, he was done trying to break free. His head rolled to the side so that he wasn't looking at me. I leaned forward, kissing his cheek. "Spence..." I kissed his neck. "Please..." His collarbone.

Reid's POV

When I met Derek Morgan all those years ago, I never would have imagined that one day we would be in this position. Him on top of me, holding me down as I fought restlessly with addiction. All I wanted was to go into the living room and grab that 'gold' in the desk. I wanted it in my system. I wanted it, needed it. But Derek wasn't budging. He was begging me to talk to him. I really wanted to. I wanted to tell him what was happening. I couldn't look at him. He started kissing me. A trail of fire ran through me. It was almost enough to take my mind off of the drugs. Almost. I collapsed, tired of trying to fight him.

"Spencer..." I could feel the emotions behind his voice. Tell him! I screamed at myself as I turned to face him.

"Derek, I – I've been …"

"I know that you're on something, okay, but I don't know what. That's all you have to tell me." I sighed. It made sense that he had known. It was our job to know things like that.

"C-cocaine..." I stammered, closing my eyes. I didn't want to see the disapproving look I knew he was giving me. I expected him to be angry. To be disappointed. But he wasn't. Instead he just kissed me, pressing our lips together tighter than I knew was possible. "You – you don't hate me?" He laughed.

"Hate you? I wouldn't be here if I hated you. I'm here because I love you. I'm here because it's my job to take care of you, and if you're running around coked up all the time, then I'm not doing my job." Tears flowed even faster from my eyes. It had been that simple the whole time? The hard part was going to be getting clean again. At least he was here with me, though.

"Derek, I _really_ want to do some, right now, and I need you to get rid of it so I don't. Can you do that?" His grip on me loosened.

"Where is it?"

"In the desk in the living room." He stood off of me, headed for my stash. Fear and anxiety swept over me as I heard the desk open and the bathroom light flick on. He was going to flush it. I had asked him to. But why, then was I jumping from my spot on the bed and running full force to stop him. I slid to my knees in front of the toilet just in time to watch it spiral down the hole. Derek grabbed my forearms, pulling me back, as I attempted to dive in after it.

"It's gone Spence, it's gone." He tried to calm me down. I hadn't even realized that I was screaming, lashing forward. I was lucky that Derek was so strong. I wasn't going to be able to handle this by myself.


	12. Make Love to Me

Chapter 12

Morgan's POV

Even after the toilet had calmed, the bathroom was still echoing with roars. Spencer was battling me. I held tight to my grip on his arms, pulling him into my chest. He was screaming profanities, thrashing his arms.

"Let me go!" He was already on his knees. Eventually, his body went limp, his forehead touching the ground, bursting into broken sobs. I bent over him, stroking his hair, and kissing the top of his head. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close to my chest.

"Spencer, you don't need it. I know you think you do. You don't. All you need is me, and you have that." I kissed his cheek, trying to pull him to his feet. He resisted, intent on staying in the floor. I shifted myself so that I was between him and the toilet. I took his cheeks in my hands, lifting his head, forcing him to look at me. "Baby boy, come on, let's go in the bedroom."

"I...Der..." It was like he couldn't form a sentence. I lifted him to his feet. He fell against my chest. I desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. What should I say? What should I do? The fact remained I had Friday, Saturday, and Sunday to get him better. It was going to be a long, long weekend. Finally, he wrapped his arms around my neck and his legs around my waist, prompting my to carry him to the bed. I laid him gently on his back, climbing on top of him.

"I love you." I kissed him forehead. "I love you." His neck. "I love you." His chest. "I love you." His lips.

"I love you, too, Derek." The tears were slowing, not stopping, but not uncontrollable.

"You can do this, Spence."

"If you say so." He rubbed his eyes furiously.

"Well I do, and you just have to trust me." Our lips pressed together once again. "I love you." I felt like if I said it enough times it would replace the cravings he held inside.

"You-you're gonna be here, right. You're not going anywhere?" I kissed him again.

"Nope, not going anywhere." My cell phone started ringing that familiar tone. It seemed to always go off at the worst times. I didn't have to look, I knew it was Hotch.

"Yeah, not going anywhere." He rolled his body so that his face was squished into the pillow.

"Hotch?"

"Morgan, I know you just got back, but we're being called out ag..."

"Okay, Hotch, I know I never do this, but I can't I'm sorry. I can't. I have a lot going on right now, and I just really can't leave."

"Morgan...we have to go...I mean..." He was quiet for a minute. I was nervous. I couldn't leave Spencer, we were finally making progress with him. "We're already one man down..."

"And if you make me go then we're going to stay that way." I knew that Hotch would understand what I meant, he was a smart man. There was another moment's silence.

"We never talked. I'll tell them I couldn't reach you. You can't be penalized for something you didn't know about."

"I owe you, man." Spencer rolled slightly to his side, looking up at me.

"You're leaving, right?"

"Nope. I told you, not..." I kissed him. "going..." Another kiss. "anywhere." Another kiss. He moved so that he was on his back again.

"Derek, you should go to work, it's not..."

"Shut up. I'm not leaving. If I leave then you are just going to do the same thing you've done every time I've left."

"No...yeah, you're right. I want you to stay, I really _really_ want you to stay."

"And that's what I'm doing." I consumed his lips, shoving my tongue into his mouth, enforcing my dominance. His legs spread, intertwining with mine, as his hands eagerly groped my body, flowing across my muscles. I bit down on his bottom lip, tugging slightly. He let out a deep groan, shifting his hips upward and pulling me down.

"Dere..."

"Shhh. Don't think about anything for a minute." He closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath.

Reid's POV

"Don't think about anything for a minute." As he said I laughed to myself, that was all I had wanted all along was just to be able to _not think_. It was my gift, it was my curse, and sometimes I just wanted it to shut up. But now, how fast everything was blowing by, I thought maybe if I tried, Derek could actually free my mind. I had built up to these moments with him for so long in my head that to actually be laying here, underneath him, flying high, it was all so unreal. I closed my eyes, picturing only Derek, hovering over me. His God-like face. His chiseled muscles. His chocolate skin. His skilled fingers. His deep brown orbs that pierced my soul. Every nuance of his image. He drove me crazy. It was working. All of the bullshit was melting away, replaced by Derek. He consumed my very being. Took over. And it was welcomed. My thoughts shifted from him in my head to the real thing. He was pulling my shirt over my head, stripping my pants and boxers. He ran his rough hands from my chest to my hips, pausing before gliding over to my inner thighs. They slid between my bare flesh, prying my legs to the side. His head dipped, trailing his tongue over my cock, teasing me. He had a cocky smirk on his face. It made him that much more irresistible. He teased me a little longer, eliciting moans and screams that vibrated the walls. I grabbed at his head, begging him to do it. Finally, he did. He took the length of my cock into his mouth. I pressed down on the top of his head, pushing myself as far into his throat as possible. His head bobbed, tongue flicking over just the right spots. I gripped at the back of his head as I hit the edge, cumming into his mouth.

"Derek!" I cried out as he slithered back up me. He licked his lips, swallowing my juices, before roughly pulling me into a kiss. My legs wrapped around his waist, rubbing my exposed skin against his clothes. I began tearing at his shirt, determined to see every inch of him. He got the clue, helping me out with the disrobing process. Once he was completely bare I had to catch my breath, staring at the perfect image above me.

"Make love to me, Derek." I pleaded.

"Your wish is my command."


	13. Withdrawing

Chapter 13

Morgan's POV

They were easily the sexiest, most amazing five words I had ever heard.

"Make love to me, Derek." They repeated through my mind. Spencer's voice was irresistible. Something about the way he said my name made my cock twitch with need. I wanted to consume him. To take him to a world he'd never known. He thought he needed drugs to escape, I was going to show him a pleasure far greater than any chemical substances could provide. I sucked dark marks into his skin, biting and nipping everything my lips could reach. My lips moved to his ear lobe.

"Your wish is my command." I whispered before nibbling slightly on his earlobe. He sucked in a sharp breath as my hands roamed his skin, tweaking his nipples. I grazed my nose against his face, biting down on his bottom lip. I was trying to pace myself, not having much luck. I wanted to devour him right then and there. I stroked his cock, causing his back to arch and his nails to dig deep into my flesh. The feeling was arousing, a little pain with a whole lot of pleasure.

I knew that Spencer was nervous. He was always nervous, much less his first time having sex. And yes, I knew for a fact that my pretty boy was a virgin, it was something he had confided in me once. I relished the thought that I was the one to corrupt him. Take his virginity. On the other side, I was a little nervous myself. I may have been a seasoned ladies man, but Spencer would be the first man I'd ever voluntarily been with.

He was growing more eager than nervous, rolling his hips, causing an unbearable friction between us. I bit hard into his neck, stifling the moan that was surfacing. Spencer cried out. I wasn't sure if I had hurt him, but if I had, he wasn't complaining. I sucked on my fingers for a second before moving them down to Spencer's entrance.

"Are you ready?" I whispered in his ear. He nodded furiously.

"Yes, Derek, please." He moaned, kissing my neck. I pushed his legs up for better access before shoving two fingers in. Spencer's face looked pained as I slid them in and out in decided movements. His nails dug further into my skin, dragging down my back. I took his lips with mine, possessively. I wanted him to understand that this meant he was mine forever. I added another finger, stretching him further.

"You look so fucking sexy, baby." I told him moving my fingers faster before adding one more. Once I knew that he was stretched and prepared, I positioned myself over him, waiting a moment before taking the plunge. He threw his head back, screaming out. It was the greatest sensation I could have ever imagined. He was tighter than any woman I had ever been with, and far more beautiful. I pulled out to the head before slamming back into him.

"Derek!" He cried my name again, fueling my desire. I thrust harder and deeper into him. He was meeting me halfway, rolling his hips forward. "F-faster..." he moaned, clawing at my lower back and butt. I gladly accepted, speeding up as fast as possible. I grabbed at his cock, stroking in pace with my hips. He clenched up, sending me flying over the edge. I came inside of my new lover. He followed close behind as I collapsed on top of him, panting.

Reid's POV

The world that just hours ago had been crumbling around me suddenly seemed to make some sense. That sense was Derek. He brought clarity into a moment that had previously held none. I could feel him releasing into me just before I did the same. We were both sweaty and panting as he wrapped his arms around me, laying down. I rolled us over, so that I was laying on his chest. His hand moved into my hair, twisting it in his fingers.

"I love you, Derek." He kissed my forehead.

"I love you, too, Spence."

We laid together for hours, wrapped in each others arms. I could feel his heart beat, and I knew that it was beating for me. I tried with all of my might to keep my mind wrapped around the dark skinned man holding me close. It was trying to drift away to another place. A bad place. But I struggled against it. At times it was easy. He would kiss and nip at me lovingly, pulling my mind back to him, wrapping my every thought around Derek Morgan. At other times it was hard. When his breathing would even, and I just knew he was asleep, leaving me once again to my own devices. I would start to stand, going to find something to entertain myself, but bear-like arms would drag me back down, holding me tight.

"Where are you going?" He asked once.

"Nowhere." Was all I said. He nestled his face into my neck, gripping me as if I would disappear. Then the physical realities of addiction began to set in. A body can only handle so much. A week long drug binge was one of those things that threw the body completely out of whack. Withdrawals didn't take long to begin, my body already being accustomed to my non-stop assault. I went from happy, sweaty, content in Derek's arms, to bone cold, shivering, and craving like I never had in my life. Derek lifted his head, looking at me.

"Spence, are you okay?" I shook my head, pulling the blanket tight around me.

"No, no, I need to get up!" I went to stand, but he forced me back down. This wasn't going to work. I needed something. I had to get up. Depression was taking over my mind, despite the hours of elation I had just experienced. Part of me wanted to jump from the bed and run away, leave everything behind. The other part wanted to stay, wrapped in Derek, the only light holding my world together at the moment.

"Boy, you aint going nowhere." He climbed on top of me, holding me down. I tried to struggle against him, this time harder than I had before. I knew that there would be bruises left on my arms, but I continued to struggle. My need to break free paralleled my cravings. My blood was boiling, I was growing angrier by the moment. I wasn't even sure what I was angry about, just that I was angry. Frustrated. I just wanted a quick fix. Derek wasn't budging, though. He continued to hold me down, planting quick kisses here and there to distract me for a moment. After a long struggle, I could feel sleep taking over. My limbs went limp as I drifted off into the dream world.

The next morning was easier. I still was having terrible cravings, but there was something about waking up in Derek's arms that quelled them for a while. I immediately woke him up, so that I didn't do anything stupid.

"Good morning." I smiled down at him as he opened his eyes.

"Yes it is." He kissed me. The next thing I knew there was something heavy and soft on my back. Derek started laughing hysterically. "Clooney! Down boy!" Clooney hopped over me, nestling between our heads and the wall.

"I bet he was a little worried by all of the sounds last night." I noted, feeling like we had neglected him.

"Good and bad ones." He teased. My stomach growled loudly. "Oh, are you hungry?" I closed my eyes, trying to remember the last time I had eaten anything. It had all started Sunday night, and here we were, Friday morning. I couldn't remember eating anything the whole time. Five days. Five days of my life gone, that I could never get back. Five days that could have destroyed everything. Five days kept from being six by the man laying in the bed with me.

"Yeah, I haven't eaten since Sunday."

"Sunday? That's ridiculous, I was going to cook, but you need to eat, now!"

"Well, can I put some clothes on?" We were both still naked. I let my eyes drift over his magnificent body one more time.

"Of course." He gave me one last kiss. I stood in front of the mirror, looking at the image staring back. Hollow eyes and a scrawny, almost emaciated, frame stared back. I couldn't honestly believe it was really me. How could Derek have called it sexy? I realized he must have really loved me. I shook my head from my thoughts, getting dressed and catching up with Derek by the front door, standing in a room that looked like a hurricane had blown through. I shook my head, sighing at my recklessness.

We were headed for a local breakfast restaurant. The memories of my stupidity over the past few days flooding in. The problem with having an eidetic memory is that you can't forget things. It takes years of burying something, and trying hard at it, to get rid of images of things you've seen or done. Most people don't remember much after doing drugs or drinking, almost in a haze. Not me. It was my curse to perpetually know the things that I had done, and relive them vividly in my mind.

"What are you thinking about?" Derek's voice snapped me from the depressing images.

"Myself. My idiocy."

"Don't say that. No, you didn't make very wise decisions, but you know what? They happened. Now we move on. And you won't be alone. I'll be there every step of the way." His right hand gripped mine as the other steered us to our destination. The withdrawals were pulling me into a depressive state, so much so I felt the only way to come out of my crash would be to do some more cocaine. Derek, however, was like my replacement drug. If I felt like running away and doing something, there he was, a beacon in the shadows, guiding me to the light.


	14. First Date

Chapter 14

Morgan's POV

Spencer ordered a lot of food. He said he hadn't eaten since Sunday. I wasn't sure how he was standing. He kept constant contact between the two of us, holding my hand, or wrapping our feet together below the table. Every now and then he would drift away, somewhere inside his own mind. Whenever that happened it was like he was a different man. His expression would become dark, anxious. His words would trail off and he would stare blankly at one spot.

"Spencer." I snapped my fingers in front of his face. His head shot up.

"Huh? Oh, sorry."

"What's going on in there?" I brushed his cheek with my fingertips. He smiled, his face brightening slightly.

"Trust me, you don't want to know."

"I do, though. I want to know everything about you, Spence."

"Well, right now, it's pretty dark up there. I just kind of keep thinking about everything."

"Like what?" Just as I asked the waitress brought our food. I was getting the sense that he didn't really want to talk about it, and I knew he was starving, so I dropped the subject.

"Oh, food. Thank you." He dug in, destroying the food in front of him. My heart sank, I couldn't believe I had let him go that long without eating. I picked at my plate, spending more time watching him than paying attention to my own food.

"Is it good, pretty boy?" He nodded, a mouthful of food. I busted out laughing. Somehow even when he looked completely ridiculous, he was irresistible.

"Delicious." He managed to spit out between bites. Once he was finished throwing back his food, I decided it was time to talk seriously.

"Okay, Spencer, here's the deal, you already know that I'm willing to do anything it takes to make sure you get better."

"Yeah, I do. I mean if you can stay after I completely destroyed my own house, I'm pretty sure you're in it for the long haul."

"That's right, but..."

"There's always a but." He interrupted.

"But, it's on you. I'll do everything I can, but Spence, you gotta do this for you. You have to _want_ to get better." He played with the food on his plate for a minute before looking up at me.

"Derek, I _do _want this for myself. I do. I just need you to know that it's not going to be easy. At all."

"You did it once, you can do it again, and this time I'm here." I took his hand from across the table, rubbing my thumb over his finger. "I love you, and I'm not willing to watch you throw your life away."

"I love you too, Derek. And believe me, I don't _want _to throw my life away, especially since I have you in it now."

"Spence, I've always been here."

"But now there are perks." He had a sly look on his face.

"Perks? I do enjoy the perks..." He leaned up and kissed me.

"So, what do you want to do with our day off?"

"Um...what do you want to do?" I asked, not caring at all what we did.

"How about we go to a movie. I'll let you buy me some twizzlers." I laughed. He really did remind me of a kid sometimes.

"Twizzlers and a movie, sounds good to me."

Reid's POV

He took me out to breakfast, and now we were on our way to a movie. It was our first 'date'. I wanted to point it out, but I didn't want to sound too corny, so I just thought it silently to myself. I was certain that most relationships...it was weird to even think...didn't start out this dysfunctionally, but what was functional about Spencer Reid dating Derek Morgan? And what would the team think? Garcia would freak. I laughed to myself, actually excited at the thought of seeing her face when she found out. I would have to make that one creative, just for her.

I began feeling a bit obsessive, constantly thinking about Derek. It probably wasn't healthy, but in my mind it was obsess over Derek or cocaine, so I chose the latter. The light shining from the sky was intense, almost blinding. It was the first time I had seen the light of day clearly in days. Despite that, it was very enjoyable. It was irritating, close to painful. I closed my eyes, leaning back against the seat. I was feeling drained, and having a rough time mustering any energy. That was when I felt the hand grip my knee.

"You okay, baby boy?" I looked up at the soothing voice.

"Just tired."

"We can go home and you can sleep if you like?"

"Nah, I don't really want to see that place right now." I thought hard about the mess that waited for me at my house. I scolded myself mentally. How could I really have been that stupid? And they say I'm a _genius_.

We looked at the list of movies playing, trying to decide. We came down to two new releases. One was a horror movie, the other a romantic comedy.

"I don't know about gore. Don't we see enough of that?" Derek argued, frowning at the bloody movie.

"Yeah, but that one sounds _so_ corny."

"Sometimes corny is good." I looked at him with a disapproving frown. He wasn't budging. I leaned in closer to him, poking out my bottom lip.

"_Please..._" I begged, tracing my finger down his chest. He threw his arms up.

"Fine, whatever." He gave in. I realized the power that women held over a man who found them attractive. This was definitely going to be fun.

I spent most of the movie chewing on my twizzlers and laughing at the unrealistic points behind the murders. I guess you become desensitized to things after a while. We saw the true versions of these things unfold before us every day. A movie was nothing. When Derek got bored with the film, he decided pelting me with popcorn was a more beneficial use of his time. I threw my hands up, shielding myself from the barrage of snack food. We both broke into uncontrollable laughter. People around us were hissing and shushing us. I curled into his chest, trying to muffle my laughs. I felt his face on the top of my head, using my hair to muffle his own. The closeness was amazing, almost breathtaking.

"Derek." I whispered.

"Yeah Spence?" He whispered back.

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For being you. For saving me. For loving me."

"I'd do it a thousand times baby. As long as you promise to love me back." How was he so sweet? It was like it all came natural to him. I felt inexperienced and unworthy of his affection. Yet somehow, I had it.

Morgan's POV

As his voice vibrated off of my chest in the dark theater, all I could think was that he was mine. There were small marks all over his neck and chest to prove that fact. He was mine, and no one else could ever touch him. I had never fallen in love before. Never said those three words to anyone. Yet, they came out so easily, so fluidly, when I was telling him how I felt. I was wrapped up in him, literally at times. The movie was not keeping my attention in the slightest. I never was a horror kind of person, it was too fake to me, but since Spencer liked it, so I gave in to him. That puppy dog face of his didn't hurt anything. We decided to skip out on the end of the movie and head home. Spencer was looking pretty pale, and even more tired.

When we walked in the front door to see the house trashed once more, he looked even paler than he already had. I wrapped my arm around his shoulder.

"Go lay down, we'll deal with this later."

"No, I want to get it done. I'm tired of looking at it." I pulled him close and kissed him.

"Go lay down, Spencer." He sighed, but didn't argue. I walked with him back to the bedroom. He laid on his back and I climbed on top of him, kissing him several times. He rubbed his leg between mine, using just the right amount of pressure. I had to close my eyes to contain myself. His arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me into a deep kiss. My hands slid under his shirt, roaming his chest. After a few minutes of feeling each other and kissing, I broke away. "No, you need some sleep. We can finish this later." I gave him one last peck before climbing off of him, tucking him into the bed.

"Fine, but when I wake up, you're _all mine_."

"That's fine with me, pretty boy." I sat at his feet with Clooney curled up behind me, not wanting to leave until I knew he was alseep. Light snores escaped his throat, confirming he was out, before I went into the front of the house. I exhaled a deep sigh, staring at the war-zone before me.


	15. Little Moments

Chapter 15

Reid's POV

It was dark outside by the time I woke up. I still felt completely drained, rather than well rested. I sat up, looking around for Derek. I heard muffled sounds coming from the living room. When I poked my head out of the room I was a bit furious. The house was spotless. He had cleaned everything, it looked even better than before my rampage. He was on the couch, his hand propping his head up, sleeping silently. I walked over, climbing on top of him. I bent down and kissed his chest, causing him to stir.

"Hey baby, I wondered how long you'd stay asleep." I kissed his neck.

"Sorry. I was pretty tired." Small bites on his ear.

"No, I understand." His hands caressed my back. "Now what were you saying about me being all yours once you woke up?" I grinned, licking a trail up his ear, pulling him to stand up. His hands squeezed my butt as I hurried to pull down his pants. Next his shirt was being ripped over his head, and I was already stepping out of my own clothes. The desire in my gut was rising, screaming to be let free. I kissed and licked at his chest, running my tongue over his nipples before gently biting down on them. His hand fisted at my hair, pulling back on my scalp. He shoved his tongue into my mouth possessively, twisting it with mine. I grinded against his leg, allowing him to feel my lust. He spun me around, bending me forward, running his hands across the thin fabric covering my butt. He drew his hand back, lightly smacking the covered skin. I moaned at the sudden contact, lifting up and rubbing my butt against his groin. I'd had enough foreplay, I wanted him, right then and there. I climbed on the couch on my knees, followed closely by Derek. I leaned over the arm, poking my butt into the air.

"Derek..."

"Tell me what you want." He leaned over my back, whispering in my ear.

"I want you."

"Yeah?"

"I want you inside of me."

"Okay then, pretty boy." I could feel my boxers tugging off of my hips to hand around my knees. What I felt next I wasn't expecting. A wet tongue slid across my hole, as two hands grabbed at my hips. I exhaled a deep gasp. Before I had time to think, wet fingers slid into me, stretching me. I moaned at the sudden pressure. His free hand was tugging at my hip, pulling me into his fingers.

"D-Derek...now..." I begged him. The fingers slipped away and I could feel his weight shifting behind me. I closed my eyes, preparing myself for what was coming. He shoved inside of me. I dug my nails into the soft couch as I cried out. He balanced himself before moving into quick thrusts. He slammed into me, still clutching my hip with one hand while curling his fingers into my hair. I arched my neck and back, biting down on the cushion below me. He slowed his rhythm for a moment, merely rolling his hips gently, before speeding up even faster than before. One of my hands found it's way to my engorged member, stroking myself. The hand that was in my hair moved to the middle of my back, steadying himself. My core was tightening up, preparing to explode. "Deeerreeek..." I moaned.

"Not yet, pretty boy." He commanded. I tried to hold it in, biting once again on the arm of the couch.

"Derek...please..." He slammed harder into me, pushing my chest into the couch.

"Almost..." He grunted. A few more thrusts and I felt him slow, slamming one last time into me, hitting that spot. Waiting was no longer an option, I exploded, my vision going white hot, and profanities passing my lips. His juices leaked down my butt and legs as I caught my breath. He leaned forward, planting soft kisses down my spine.

"I...love...you..." I choked out between breaths.

"Love you too, baby." He laid back, pulling me into his lap and wrapping his arms around me. His hands felt more rough than usual. I lifted one with my own slender fingers, inspecting them. There were small cuts and scrapes all over his fingers.

"Derek, what happened to your hands?" I kissed the small wounds, curling our fingers together.

"Oh, it's nothing."

"Tell me."

"Well, it's just, when I was cleaning earlier." I suddenly remembered that he had cleaned up my mess. I felt horrible, Derek had been physically injured because of my own stupidity. The waves of depression overtook me once more. It was so overwhelming, it felt as if the only way to escape it would be cocaine.

"I'm so sorry." I kissed each of his fingers.

"Don't worry about that. I get worse fixing up my houses."

"But Derek..."

"Shhh. It's not important." I still felt like shit. The last thing in the world I ever wanted was to cause Derek pain. Even if it was insignificant.

Morgan's POV

He was laying in my arms after I had just claimed him for my own. He was feeling guilty for some minor scrapes on my hands from picking up the glass in the floors. I tried to tell him it was no big deal, but I got the distinct feeling that he was beating himself up inside of that huge brain of his. I planted small kisses here and there to silently tell him it was okay. I could tell he was burning for something, so I gripped him even tighter, letting him know I wasn't going anywhere. His head rolled back against my neck.

"Derek, it's going to get old, and you aren't going to want to be with me any more."

"Huh?" He had this depressed look in his eyes, as if his soul was empty.

"You aren't going to want to put up with me forever."

"You're wrong."

"What?"

"You – are – wrong. I never want to let you go. I don't care if I have to fight off cravings and withdrawal symptoms every day for the rest of my life, as long as I get to spend each one of those days with you." I kissed his cheek to reiterate my point. He gripped tight to my arms. I wanted to wipe away his feelings of doubt and sadness, but I had no idea what to do.

"Derek, I don't deserve you."

"Shut up. Yes you do." His stomach growled.

"Hungry?"

"Yeah..."

"Let me get dressed, you get a shower, when you're out, you'll have some food waiting."

"Thanks Derek. You're amazing."

"I am, aren't I?" He ran off to the bathroom while I scooped up my clothes. I searched through the kitchen, trying to decide what to make. He had two small steaks, so I decided to make baked potatoes, steak, and green beans. When he came into the dining room I had two taper candles lit and two glasses of wine accompanying our plates.

"Oh, Derek, it's lovely."

"For you, baby." I said, giving him a quick kiss before pulling his chair out for him.

"Wow, and a gentleman at that."


End file.
